December 17, 2008
By Mary Warfield, Lincoln, NE


The snow falls on my heart
A doormat placeholder
It shuts in the darkness
No light can enter

Then, a quick pulse
From an outside source
Shocks the dark shell
It slowly cracks and breaks

Pulse by Pulse
Piece by Piece
It falls away
The soft tissue lies exposed

The inside glows as
A new light enters
Maybe not as bright at first
But it will grow

As it grows
It heats my heart
No longer a doormat placeholder
But a reflective mirror

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